Meljean Brookhttp://meljeanbrook.com
Sat, 10 Jun 2017 06:23:16 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.8.1I love Ripley & Furiosa. But the movies they’re in aren’t like Wonder Woman.http://meljeanbrook.com/love-ripley-furiosa-movies-theyre-arent-like-wonder-woman/
http://meljeanbrook.com/love-ripley-furiosa-movies-theyre-arent-like-wonder-woman/#commentsSat, 10 Jun 2017 06:23:16 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10991I’ve seen a lot of women in my Facebook and Tweetstreams saying things like, “There’s never been a superhero like this before!” and “I didn’t know this was what I wanted so much.” I’ve also seen a lot of replies like, “So I guess you’ve never seen Ripley, or Furiosa, or Sarah Connor, or Rey, […]

]]>I’ve seen a lot of women in my Facebook and Tweetstreams saying things like, “There’s never been a superhero like this before!” and “I didn’t know this was what I wanted so much.”

I’ve also seen a lot of replies like, “So I guess you’ve never seen Ripley, or Furiosa, or Sarah Connor, or Rey, or Red Sonja, or any other female-led action movie since the 70s, huh?”

Well, of course we have. Who the hell doesn’t love Ripley? Who didn’t come back from seeing Mad Max: Fury Road in the theater and tell everyone to go see it? But here’s the thing: We still haven’t seen anything quite like Wonder Woman before. Why?

BECAUSE NONE OF THOSE FEMALE ACTION HEROES HAD PEOPLE TELLING HER THAT SHE COULDN’T DO THINGS BECAUSE OF HER GENDER.

Ripley lives in an apparently post-sexist world. She’s an officer on a spaceship. No one says to her, “No, you can’t advise the captain because you’re a woman!” If she’s on the bridge, no one says, “You can’t be in here, you’re a woman!”

Same with Furiosa. Although the world she lives in is obviously sexist and women are treated like cattle, EVERYONE is treated the same way. But there’s no one in the movie suggesting that she can’t be an Imperator because she’s a woman. No one is saying she shouldn’t drive a war rig because she’s a woman. No one suggests that if all the male generals and political leaders are talking in a room, that she might be confused by it all.

Same with Sarah Connor. Kyle Reese comes from a future where women and men fight alongside each other. He comes from a future in which Sarah Connor is KNOWN as a warrior-type woman who taught her son how to be a soldier. He’s there to protect her, but never once does he say, “You need protection because you’re a woman.” He knows she’s capable. Kyle KNOWS she’s going to save the damn world. The fact that she’s a woman doesn’t make him think she’s less capable of ANYTHING.

So when we say we haven’t seen a female hero in a huge production like this before, doing what Wonder Woman does … it’s true. We aren’t ignorant of film history. If you’re like me, you’ve taken every single scrap of every single warrior heroine who ever graced the screen – cringing sometimes, but so glad for every Alice in Resident Evil, every Bride, every Rey, every Red Sonja, every Supergirl (yes, the movie one), every Elektra, every Catwoman (but Michelle Pfeiffer’s over that other monstrosity because a COSMETIC COMPANY? REALLY?) and Tank Girl and Barb Wire and Lara Croft. You really think we haven’t seen those? And you really think we don’t know when we’re seeing something DIFFERENT? AND NEW?

Because it is. She was told she couldn’t wear those clothes. She was told she couldn’t be in that room. She was told to keep her voice down. She was told she couldn’t help the people she wanted to help and that she couldn’t cross No Man’s Land.

And I’m so glad they set it in WWI when all of that is overt. I don’t know how it would have played in a contemporary setting. Not that there’s equality now but that people are just better about pretending inequality doesn’t exist.

Anyway. Seeing that response over and over as if one kickass heroine is the same as any other, as if the experience of WATCHING them kick ass is the same, no matter the context…it just bothers me. I love all of these movies. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Aliens. I can’t tell you how many people I urged to see Fury Road or describe the utter joy of watching Furiosa on screen.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/love-ripley-furiosa-movies-theyre-arent-like-wonder-woman/feed/9Semi-Yearly Update! (TL;DR version: it’s not a novella anymore!)http://meljeanbrook.com/semi-yearly-update-tldr-version-not-novella-anymore/
http://meljeanbrook.com/semi-yearly-update-tldr-version-not-novella-anymore/#commentsThu, 19 Jan 2017 04:05:11 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10972So…yeah. In August, I was all “who wants to review my barbarian novella that should be done September-ish?!” and a bunch of people signed up* and I was all whee, yay, Meljean is coming out with something soon, even if she calls herself Milla. NOW IT’S 2017 And VENGEANCE is not a novella anymore. (Raise your […]

]]>So…yeah. In August, I was all “who wants to review my barbarian novella that should be done September-ish?!” and a bunch of people signed up* and I was all whee, yay, Meljean is coming out with something soon, even if she calls herself Milla.

NOW IT’S 2017

And VENGEANCE is not a novella anymore. (Raise your hand if you are surprised.)

It’s not even a novella by MY standards! (Like TETHERED was originally a “bonus novella” in HEART OF STEEL … at 50K words. I originally expected this to be around that length. Hahahahaha!)

So. It’s still coming. It’s just longer than I thought it would be. And the Blacksmith is right after it. I hired an awesome artist for some cover art and expect to see that any day. Until then, the poster version to the left is the placeholder.

Er… So, what else have I been doing since my last update?

Well, ROGUE ONE was awesome.

I haven’t seen a ton of movies, though.

Haven’t read a ton, either. Mostly a lot of Harlequin manga.

And I made some cover art (though not as much anymore, now that my writing mojo is back.) But really, who cares? All that matters is the writing, yeah?

But here is some of that art anyway. This will be pretty much close to my last batch of cover art, except for maybe series I’ve already started, because, yay! Writing again.

So that’s Meljean at the beginning of 2017. Mojo reclaimed. And once again writing WAY over her intended word count.

*If you signed up or sent me an email, yes — you will still get the ARC. It’ll just be bigger. And longer. And harder.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/semi-yearly-update-tldr-version-not-novella-anymore/feed/12Vengeance ARC Sign Uphttp://meljeanbrook.com/vengeance-arc-sign/
http://meljeanbrook.com/vengeance-arc-sign/#commentsWed, 10 Aug 2016 18:48:53 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10927So! I expect this story (long novella or short novel or whatever it turns out to be) will be finished around the end of August/beginning of September. At that point, I would like to send out advance review copies to interested readers. However! This is by Milla Vane, not Meljean Brook There’s a reason why […]

Not the final cover, probably, but works for now. Sign up for an ARC of VANEECNGE!

So! I expect this story (long novella or short novel or whatever it turns out to be) will be finished around the end of August/beginning of September. At that point, I would like to send out advance review copies to interested readers. However!

This is by Milla Vane, not Meljean Brook

There’s a reason why I use a different pen name for these stories: they are darker in tone and content than my Meljean Brook stories (and seriously, I’ve had readers who said they won’t read Meljean again because of my first story in this world, so I’m really not kidding about the difference!) I will be putting ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS on the novella when it comes out, because although the sexual relationship between the hero and heroine is consensual (though sometimes more of a power struggle than strictly romantic) the world itself is not full of consensual things and terrible things happen to people in it. There is a happy ending (of course) and baddies will get what they deserve (most of them do) but it won’t always be the easiest journey.

If you haven’t read that novella, then maybe think GRRM but without all the main character deaths? Except I haven’t read or really watched GAME OF THRONES so even that, I’m just going by what I pick up from spoilers online.

I haven’t even written up a story description yet

Because writing cover copy is SO HARD. Basically it’s set in a world where there are a bunch of warrior barbarians and ancient- and medieval-type societies and swords and axes and velociraptors and demons and gods and mammoths. And

It’s about a warrior whose family was killed by the heroine’s family, and he’s determined to get his revenge … and he has no idea that the heroine wants vengeance even more than he does.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/vengeance-arc-sign/feed/31Quarterly Update – Barbarians and the Blacksmithhttp://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-barbarians-blacksmith/
http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-barbarians-blacksmith/#commentsThu, 28 Jul 2016 14:15:39 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10908Well, this basically sums up everything that needs to be known re: Meljean Brook, because I’m going to sleep until this movie comes out. Okay, maybe not really. But DAAAAAMMMMNNNNNNN. And Aquaman is coming, too. *weeps with joy* Okay but what about the stories, Meljean???? Ah! Okay, so I’m halfway through VENGEANCE, my Milla Vane […]

]]>Well, this basically sums up everything that needs to be known re: Meljean Brook, because I’m going to sleep until this movie comes out.

Okay, maybe not really. But DAAAAAMMMMNNNNNNN. And Aquaman is coming, too. *weeps with joy*

Okay but what about the stories, Meljean????

Ah! Okay, so I’m halfway through VENGEANCE, my Milla Vane barbarian story. I’m also finishing up a small project and then diving into the Blacksmith. So the next quarterly update I have, I expect to be well into that book.

Hmm, let’s see. What else is there? Not much. So here is something I posted to Facebook — I cut this out of the barbarian story because I decided to start it at a later point, but I guess it can be read as a wordy prologue? (You might see some of it re-used in the revised version, but basically this is gone from the story.)

Dawn was a distant gleam upon the jagged teeth of the Fallen Mountains when the Parsatheans mounted their horses and struck hard for home. The riders carried nothing but what was necessary for the journey. In the encampment overlooking the river Lave, whose pebbled banks were still stained by the blood of Farian savages slain in recent battle, they left behind wagons and livestock, coldstone caches filled with coarse grain and dried meat, and the heavy armor that would fold even a Parsathean steed’s mighty legs if forced to bear the weight across unforgiving terrain day after day, through two full turns of the moon.

North the grim-faced warriors raced, unburdened but for the grief in their hearts—for the previous eve had brought news that their queen and king were dead.

That grave burden lay heaviest upon the heart of the warrior who led the long column of riders. Maddek, he was called.

The queen and king of Parsathe had called him their son.

Four abreast, the riders climbed forested hills that gave way to treeless flats. For seven mornings, sullen clouds spilled torrents of lukewarm rain that steamed into a crawling mist beneath the midday sun. Thousands of pounding hooves trampled tender shoots of grass, and their thundering passage stamped a muddied road into the earth.

A tennight into their journey, the full moon rose over green plains teeming with herds that ranged from horizon to horizon. The warriors pierced the bestial mass in tight formation, like an arrow of straining horseflesh and shining steel, with Maddek the razor-tipped head. Around them, armorbacks snorted and squatted over dirt-mounded nests. Shaggy bison calves kicked their heels and danced between the column-like legs of dappled trumpeters. At the deep, resounding call from one of those great beasts, hundreds more raised long elegant necks, their plumed heads turning to watch the riders pass.

The warriors did not pause to hunt for meat or furs. Their mounts were their dining halls, the cold ground their beds. But although even battle-hardened muscles ached, no complaint issued from their lips.

Laughter did, as the days passed and the moon waned. Grief softened and song returned to their tongues, ballads that spoke of lusty warriors and legendary rulers—and of the goddess Temra, who had broken through the vault of the sky and reshaped the world with the pounding of her fist, forcing life to sprout from the earth’s barren face. Temra, whose loving arms welcomed the souls of the dead back into her eternal embrace.

Though sorrow lay like stone upon Maddek’s features, even his granite mouth smiled when the warriors told their ribald jokes. Though his deep voice did not lift in song, he felt the rhythm through his blood like the beat of war drums. But his grief did not soften; instead it hardened around his heart like steel.

Nothing had been left unsaid between mother and father and son. Every Parsathean warrior knew life was too uncertain to leave important words unspoken. But when Maddek had last seen them, his queen and king spoke of finding him a bride and of strengthening the alliance between Parsathe and the southern city-states. Nothing was left unsaid, but there was much left undone.

So Maddek would see it finished in their stead.

\* \* \*

Two days’ ride beyond the sluggish waters of the Ageras, the white stone walls of Ephorn became visible in the distance. Maddek had heard soldiers from the city claim that glimpsing Ephorn from across the meadowlands was akin to gazing upon a shining mountain.

Maddek agreed. It looked like a mountain—a pale squatting one, built upon a hill of its own dung.

Walls should not swell a soldier’s breast with pride. Walls symbolized not strength but fear. Ephorn and the nearby sovereignties—Toleh, Syssia, Rugus, and Goge—had built their walls because they feared each other and feared their common enemies: the Parsatheans to the north and the Farians to the south. Yet for generations, their rulers still conspired and warred amongst themselves, the riders still invaded and raided their cities, and the savages still raped and slaughtered their citizens.

And thirty years ago, Anumith the Destroyer had broken through their walls as easily as he’d torn through Parsathean hunting camps.

Hoofbeats quickened behind Maddek as his first captain urged her mount to pull even with his.

Her gaze was fixed ahead. “Ephorn sends a welcome.”

Maddek had seen the approaching riders, but Enox had likely seen more. Though the gray in her braids had overtaken the black, her dark eyes were keen—keener than his own. “Under whose banner?”

“The council’s.”

The council to the alliance that had formed between Parsathe and the southern city-states after the Destroyer had marched through these lands. An alliance created not to stand against the Destroyer—it had been too late for that—but to stand against the warlords and sorcerers who sought to conquer the shattered remains the Destroyer left in his wake. An alliance in which each member had an equal voice and whose council ministers spoke on behalf of their home.

Former enemies and rivals, bound together to a common purpose—an alliance, but often an uneasy one. Their voices were equal but their contributions to the alliance’s defenses could not be. Unlike Parsathe, where every citizen was taught to ride and hunt and fight, in the southern city-states only a small number became soldiers. So each member of the alliance contributed what the council deemed was of equal value. Swords from Rugus, grain from Goge…warriors from Parsathe.

A life, deemed equal to a few barrels of mead or a length of steel. But it mattered not. Maddek knew his own worth and the worth of every warrior who rode behind him.

The sun gleaming dully on their brass helms, the council guard approached. Though the guard was made up of men and women from each member of the alliance, in their armor they were indistinguishable from soldiers in any of the other city-states. Maddek could only recognize the Parsatheans by the strength of their mounts and the silver upon their fingers. When a warrior returned home after serving on the council guard, sometimes they spoke of Ephorn’s riches—but mostly they spoke of how they sweltered.

The southerners did not just wrap themselves in walls. Their soldiers wrapped their bodies in heavy armor, even when they were not in combat, as if delivering a message were as dangerous as heading into battle. The citizens wrapped themselves in cloth from neck to ankle, even on days when they did not need protection from the cold or wind. An entire life they spent wrapped as if for a funeral pyre.

The day was warm and Maddek didn’t anticipate a fight, so his own chest was bare, aside from the leather baldric slung across his shoulder to carry his sword. He wore no black paint over his brow. The only silver upon his fingers was the family crest circling the base of his thumb; he’d tucked away the razor-tipped claws that would drip with blood by the end of a battle.

Dressed to ride, not to make war—yet he still saw the wariness that darkened the captain of the guard’s eyes.

Many southerners within the alliance still believed the Parsatheans were little better than the savages. The riders were still called raiders and thieves—and uncivilized.

Maddek had never known the raid. By the time he’d been old enough to ride his first horse, the alliance between Parsathe and the southern city-states had been firmly established, and the silver and steel the Parsatheans had once taken was freely given in exchange for their warriors’ strength. But if civilization meant cowering behind walls, then Maddek preferred to be a barbarian.

And in a god’s age, when their civilized walls were crumbling to dust, when the names of their civilized cities were forgotten, Parsathean seed would still grow strong amid the ruins.

A few paces ahead, the captain of the guard abruptly reined in his mount. Maddek’s jaw tensed. If a Parsathean warrior had drawn so hard on his horse’s mouth, he’d have found himself marching on foot for a sennight.

“Greetings, Commander Maddek!” Despite his heavy hands and wary eyes, he sat easy in his saddle. His face was shaven in the manner of Gogean men, chin bare and jaw full-bearded. “The Council of the Great Alliance bids you welcome and requests your presence at the citadel.”

To ask for an accounting of the savages’ heads, no doubt. Maddek intended to ask for an accounting of his own. “I will come shortly.”

“I will let them know to expect you, commander.” The captain’s gaze swept the long column of riders behind him. “Lady Pylla adds that the resources of Ephorn are at your disposal.”

And Maddek would use them. A full turn of the moon had passed since the Parsatheans had left the Lave encampment, and it would be another full turn before they reached home. Their horses needed rest and his warriors needed to replenish their stores.

He looked to Enox. “Lead them to the northern flat.” Where there was fresh water and grazing for the horses, yet the riders would be near enough to the city to enjoy the pleasures of it. “We will make camp for three days.”

Wry amusement curved Enox’s mouth. “And ride out fat and drunk on the fourth day,” she said before turning to eye the grinning rider behind her. “Kelir, you and your five will accompany Ran Maddek to the citadel and serve as his Hand.”

_Ran Maddek. _It was the first time any of the warriors had called him by the title that had belonged to Maddek’s mother and father. But it was not his title yet. And wouldn’t be, unless all of Parsathe claimed his voice as theirs.

Enox met his grim look with a lift of her chin. She had probably not liked hearing the captain of the guard call him ‘commander’—that was the alliance’s title for him, not a Parsathean’s. “Please give greetings to my old father and tell him I expect a great feast delivered to our camp tomorrow.”

Her father, Nayil, who sat on the council as Parsathe’s minister.

“I will,” Maddek said. There was much he would be asking Nayil for. A feast for her.

Answers for him.

***

(Okay and maybe the next part won’t be deleted and I didn’t post it to Facebook yet.)

Beneath the shadow cast by the wall, sallow-cheeked children played between mudbrick houses that only saw the sun at midday. No breeze stirred the stale air but for the wind created by Maddek and the six Parsathean warriors who followed him, their mounts’ hooves clattering on the cobblestone road.

Visible beyond the clay-tiled roofs rose the shining blue spires of the citadel. The fortress at the city’s center had served as home to Ephron’s king until Anumith the Destroyer had slaughtered the royal bloodline. Afterward, no one had taken the king’s place on the throne, though many nobles still lived. Instead the city had come under the protection of the Court of Muda—the goddess of law.

Before the Destroyer left the region, his warlords had razed every temple except for those belonging to the sun god, but Muda’s court had not claimed the king’s citadel for its own when they took over rule of Ephorn. Instead they rebuilt their temple—square and unadorned—at the foot of the royal fortress, which became the seat of the alliance.

And it was at the citadel where all the splendor of Ephorn was put on display. In the great courtyard beyond the fortress’s outer gates, lush gardens breathed their perfume into the air. Fountains splashed into gleaming marble basins. Market stalls boasted pots full of colorful spices and hung a dazzling array of silks. At the open tables, mead flowed like rivers to wash down mountains of roasted meats.

It was the city that never hungered or thirsted. Some said it was because Muda herself favored Ephorn, so its fields always yielded a bounty and its wells always ran clear.

Maddek could not claim to know whether the goddess of law cared for crops and water. But he thought her favor had been helped along by Ephorn’s location. Centered as it was between the four other city-states, in the past it had not been raided or attacked as often as the cities on the borders. And most roads—along with all the trade they brought—took a central route through the region instead of crossing through Parsathean and Farian territory, so the merchants of Ephorn often bought from foreign traders on the cheap and sold their wares to the other city-states at a profit.

But perhaps they called that the goddess’s favor, too.

Maddek passed through the inner gates and dismounted at the base of the Tower of the Moon—the tallest of the four great towers within the citadel. With sheer walls of seamless white marble topped by a sapphire spire that pierced the sky, it had once served as the royal keep. Now it was home to the alliance council.

He glanced over at Kelir, still on his horse. The big warrior’s head was tilted far back as he took in the height of the tower.

A mournful expression passed over Kelir’s scarred face when he saw Maddek’s gaze upon him. “All of my life, I have held the tales of Ran Bantik close to my heart. I would have told them to my own children. Now I know them all to be false. ”

Tales of the legendary thief-king of Parsathe, who had long ago united the tribes that rode the Burning Plains. “Why?”

“No one could have scaled _those_ walls to steal the pearl from Ephorn’s crown. Easier to scale a wall of greased steel.”

So it would be. But a man did not become a legend by only doing what others believed to be possible.

Maddek did not think that argument would sway Kelir, though. “Is the feat not as impressive if he climbed the stairs?”

“How can it be? Shall I tell my children how Ran Bantik gasped for breath when he reached the top? Shall I say how he must have clutched his burning chest as he stole the pearl?”

“If Ran Maddek were to race to the upper chambers, he would not be gasping for breath—and neither would I.” This came from Ardyl, who had also dismounted and now looked up at Kelir with a frown creasing her black-painted brow. “Perhaps if you more often ran beside your horse instead of always sitting on him, you could also reach the top unwinded.”

Kelir looked to Maddek as if for help, but Maddek had none to give the other warrior, not while he was laughing his agreement.

“When I see the keep, I do not think of Ran Bantik,” Ardyl added as she took Maddek’s reins. The warriors would not accompany him inside but remain in the courtyard with the horses. “Instead I wonder what sort of fools the royal family must have been to build a majestic tower that honors the moon goddess, though it is by Muda’s favor that they all prosper.”

“What insult could that be?” Kelir frowned at her. “Vela gave birth to Law. What daughter would not see her mother honored?”

Ardyl’s response was a pointed glance at the silent warrior mounted a few paces behind him. Danoh’s feud with her mother was almost as legendary as any thief-king; many Parsatheans claimed the only time they’d ever heard her speak was when she yelled at the older woman.

With a laugh, Kelir bowed his head to acknowledge his defeat.

Movement on the tower steps drew Maddek’s attention. A seneschal in blue robes was coming to greet him, a wiry Tolehi man with shaved head and pursed lips. Omer. Maddek knew him well. He’d first met the seneschal as a boy, visiting the tower while his parents spoke to the council, and he’d spent a full morning in an antechamber with the seneschal watching him as an antelope watches a drepa—with trembling limbs and pounding heart, fearing the raptor’s sickle claw that would spill its innards to the ground.

Though a sickle claw from his first drepa hunt had already hung from the leather thong around his throat, Maddek hadn’t spilled the man’s innards. Instead he’d eaten his way through a platter of roasted boa. He had pleasant memories of that morning, even if the seneschal did not.

“Commander Maddek.” Omer imperiously swept his hand toward the tower entrance. “The council is ready to receive you, if you are ready to be received.”

The doubt in his tone suggested that Maddek was not. “I am.”

The older man sniffed as Maddek joined him. “If you wish, I will escort you to the bathing chambers first.”

Grinning his amusement, Maddek climbed the steps. “I do not wish.”

There was no shame in carrying the odor of horse and sweat, or in wearing the grime of travel and camp on his skin. That was what it meant to serve the alliance. He would not pretend a warrior could remain clean while doing it.

As it was, they should be grateful he always washed away the blood, or he would have faced them dripping an ocean of it.

With a sword’s worth of steel in his spine, Omer tipped back his head to meet Maddek’s gaze. “I would offer a robe so that you could clothe yourself before meeting the ministers, but we do not have any large enough to cover your mountainous expanse of flesh. But did I not see a mammoth’s pelt rolled up and tied to your beast of a horse?”

Not a mammoth’s but a bison’s—and it was too warm for furs. Maddek no longer used his except to sleep on.

He said simply, “I am already dressed.”

In red linen folded over a wide belt. The inner length of cloth hung to his knees. When it was raining or cold, he could draw up the longer outer length and drape it over his shoulders, but now it fell almost to the ground, all but concealing the soft leather boots that protected his feet and hugged his calves. The outer length of linen was split to allow for ease of movement, but unless he was riding or fighting, it covered him as well as a robe—from the waist down.

Omer gave his bare chest a despairing glance before sighing and continuing across the marble floor inside the tower’s entrance. In silence they walked, until they reached the anteroom outside the council’s chamber.

There the seneschal quietly said, “It was with great sorrow that I learned what befell Ran Ashev and Ran Marek. Your queen and king were always the most welcome of the council’s visitors. Of those who knew them, there can be not one who does not grieve for them now.”

Maddek inclined his head but made no other response, except to draw the red cloth up over his shoulder and drape it across his chest.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-barbarians-blacksmith/feed/3Quarterly Update: Yay, the Blacksmith’s on again!http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-yay-blacksmiths/
http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-yay-blacksmiths/#commentsFri, 27 May 2016 06:06:15 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10888The only update that really matters… So, yes — I figured out what in my brain was going wrong with The Blacksmith. So I’m mostly unblocked and will start working on it again very soon (probably starting in July, but I am going to take it one part at a time — there are six […]

So, yes — I figured out what in my brain was going wrong with The Blacksmith. So I’m mostly unblocked and will start working on it again very soon (probably starting in July, but I am going to take it one part at a time — there are six parts in this serial) and expect that it will take me the better part of a year, simply because that is what happens with the Iron Seas. But that means you’ll probably see it in 2017 instead of some unidentified time in the future.

What am I working on now?

Vengeance, a Milla Vane barbarian novella. I expect that will be out in June or July, depending on how long it ends up being.

What else are you doing?

Uh, not much since my superhero-inspired workout for writers. I’ve read a few books and posted brief reviews on Goodreads (no romance, really) — heck, I guess I can just post them here? Yay for embeddable stuff.

Really enjoyed this though I was somewhat disappointed by the rushed ending, shown to us through one POV. It was sufficiently nightmarishly described (almost like a Hieronymus Bosch painting) but we don’t actually know what happened to several key characters in the story and why they ended up where they ultimately did. We’re given hints, but considering that every step up to that point was shown to us, to have it all skipped over and simply given a confusing scene felt like a letdown.

Aside from that, though, the witch was creepy and the unraveling of the town really well done.

The concept of the Dragonscale was super interesting (and I couldn’t help thinking of The Girl with All the Gifts while I was reading it — similar infections, totally different directions). It’s always hard not to compare Hill to King, partially because there are so many King Easter Eggs thrown in that his books invite that comparison, so I don’t think it’s unfair to say: whoo, this is The Stand Lite. Which isn’t to dismiss it, because who has time to read The Stand again? And of course The Fireman stands on its own perfectly (really didn’t intend that pun, but now that it’s there, it’ll stay) but if you’re looking for the complex interwoven narrative of that older book, it’s not here.

It’s actually simple and focused, and that might be part of the reason it wasn’t a knockout for me. It’s called The Fireman but the titular character kind of spends a lot of time lying around with something broken. Instead we see everything through the eyes of a Mary Poppins-loving nurse (whose character I enjoyed very much, especially through the scenes with the rock) and that was fine, but I always felt very kind of … distant from the narrative, even though she was right in it and had a lot to lose when things went sideways. It’s a long book, so maybe I just spent too much time in her head and I needed a wider perspective. I don’t know.

So I enjoyed this, but more in the vein of admiring the idea and the storyline and having a good time, but without ever having a visceral “God I love this book” feeling. I probably won’t read it again. (But it does kind of make me want to re-read The Stand.)

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-update-yay-blacksmiths/feed/11A Superhero-Inspired Workout for Romance Writershttp://meljeanbrook.com/superhero-workout/
http://meljeanbrook.com/superhero-workout/#commentsSun, 01 May 2016 02:24:37 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10829If you don’t follow my personal Facebook page, you probably aren’t aware of how much I like the new Aquaman (and if you do follow it, this post probably won’t come as a surprise to you.) Things I also like? Wonder Woman, comic books, and action figures. So when my sister Echo ran across an Aquaman […]

]]>If you don’t follow my personal Facebook page, you probably aren’t aware of how much I like the new Aquaman (and if you do follow it, this post probably won’t come as a surprise to you.) Things I also like? Wonder Woman, comic books, and action figures.

So when my sister Echo ran across an Aquaman action figure, this is the conversation that took place on Facebook. If you want to scroll past this exchange, basically the conversation went like:

And because my sister is awesome, a few days later those dirty pictures showed up in my inbox.

But something happened. Because as I was looking at the photos, I realized they weren’t inspiring dirty thoughts. And perhaps that’s because I’d spent so much time in the past weeks admiring Aquaman’s dedication in the gym as he prepares for his role in the upcoming Justice League movie. So when I saw Echo’s photo of Aquaman here

I thought of how strong Aquaman must be if he could defeat such a giant fish! And when I began thinking of Aquaman’s muscles, I was reminded of this photo, showing Aquaman working out!

And so I began looking at Echo’s photos in a different way — and I was inspired to create my own workout!*please consult your physician before beginning this or any other exercise program* *but especially before beginning this one*

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/superhero-workout/feed/26Making your serial killer – handouthttp://meljeanbrook.com/making-serial-killer-handout/
http://meljeanbrook.com/making-serial-killer-handout/#commentsSun, 17 Apr 2016 22:51:07 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10799For the PDF: serial-brochure-web Just back from RT, and I got a request for the handout I used in the “Making your serial a killer” panel (which was awesome). Here is the handout — it was originally a tri-fold brochure, but I rearranged the panels so they’re more easily read in JPEG form. YOU CAN CLICK […]

Just back from RT, and I got a request for the handout I used in the “Making your serial a killer” panel (which was awesome).

Here is the handout — it was originally a tri-fold brochure, but I rearranged the panels so they’re more easily read in JPEG form. YOU CAN CLICK TO ENLARGE THEM. Or I also have the text printed below for those who are vision impaired. If you’d like a PDF that you can print out and fold like a regular brochure, let me know.

So you’re writing a serial novel?

It’s not a choice everyone will understand. Some readers might recoil from you in horror. But never fear…you can get away with it!

I

Hack up your story with a blade, not a woodchipper!

If I could only offer one bit of advice, it would be this: Give your readers enough meat to chew on with each installment, so they’ll be satisfied until the next is available.

The experience of reading a traditional novel is different from reading a serial novel—much like the difference between watching a full-length movie versus watching episodes of a television show or a mini-series. It’s Silence of the Lambs versus a season of Hannibal. Whether you post one episode or chapter at a time, give your reader reason to come back. Don’t lose them over the week-long wait (or a commercial break, if you’re only posting scenes)—whet their appetite for more, but don’t let them starve for content!

Move the story forward in each installment, even if you’re posting your serial for free, because the time a reader spends on it represents an invisible cost to them. Make sure you offer enough to make their time and money worth it, or you will lose them. And if you don’t have enough story yet, wait until you have more before posting it.

II

It rubs the plot on its skin.

Whether you’re a pantser or a plotter, it helps to have some idea where your story is going. Ideally, you would finish the serial before posting the installments, but we all know it doesn’t always work that way.

You don’t need a detailed outline, but knowing the important plot and character points helps tremendously. Write each installment with a goal in mind (what does this part of the story accomplish?) and with the story focused on the point ahead. Remember, after an installment is posted, it’s difficult to go back and change the story!

III

feed your DARK PASSENGERS regularly.

Try to establish (and adhere to) a schedule when posting your installments. Also recognize that the longer the wait between installments, the more content you should provide. Few readers will stick around for a single scene (or short chapter) once a month; a chapter every week or two is more palatable. You can’t really have too much story per installment, but you can have too little, so keep your writing speed in mind when you plan your posting schedule.

Life can and will happen. It’s a good idea to write one or two installments ahead, just in case—and if a delay is unavoidable, let your readers know as soon as possible (and offer to notify them through an email service or newsletter when the installments resume.)

IV

Put the #^@%ing cliffHanger in the basket!

Use cliffhangers wisely and sparingly.Cliffhangers can put the reader on the edge of her seat, leave her dying to know what happens next. They can also be emotionally exhausting, frustrating, and disappointing. If you plan to use cliffhangers, consider the following:

Does it interrupt a scene or cut it short? If so, you might want to reconsider and finish the scene before ending your installment. A natural tension and momentum typically increases over the course of a scene; if you break that tension by cutting a scene short, you reader will start the next part at point zero and not at the point where you left her. Finish the action, give the reader a glimpse of the fallout, and open the next part with the fallout and new rising tension. For example, don’t end a scene with a gun firing—let us see who gets shot and pick up the action from there (and rebuild the tension using that character’s death or survival) in the next installment.

Sometimes the fallout is more action (beat one bad guy, and his friend shows up. Uh-oh.)

Is the pain worth the payoff? Let’s be clear: cliffhangers are painful to readers. They are left in a state of uncertainty and anxiety regarding the future of your characters, and unlike a traditional book (in which they can keep going), in a serial they are helpless. There’s no page to turn. So if you continually provide shocks that have little reward—the equivalent of shouting “Boo!” followed by “just kidding”—eventually they will stop allowing themselves any emotional investment in your story. If the cliffhanger and its fallout don’t have a significant impact on your story or characters, leave it out. If a cliffhanger is just a fake-out, leave it out. Write enough tension and conflict into your story and you won’t need cheap tricks to bring readers back.

V

WRITE IT. FINISH IT.

It’s just like every other book in that respect. Get your fingers on a keyboard or pen. After you’ve started, don’t stop until it’s done.
the end

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/making-serial-killer-handout/feed/3Find me at the Romantic Times Convention in Las Vegas!http://meljeanbrook.com/find-romantic-times-convention-las-vegas/
http://meljeanbrook.com/find-romantic-times-convention-las-vegas/#commentsSat, 02 Apr 2016 21:07:52 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10784It’s almost that time again! From April 13th-17th, I will be in Las Vegas for the RT Booklovers Convention. I’ll be participating in a panel about writing serials and signing at the giant book fair (since I didn’t sign last year, I’ll be signing THE KRAKEN KING this year). I’ll also be at the Berkley […]

It’s almost that time again! From April 13th-17th, I will be in Las Vegas for the RT Booklovers Convention. I’ll be participating in a panel about writing serials and signing at the giant book fair (since I didn’t sign last year, I’ll be signing THE KRAKEN KING this year). I’ll also be at the Berkley party on Saturday after the book fair.

I also have time in between other events to chat — depending on the layout of the hotel and convention site, I’ll likely be in the lobby/bar or wherever everyone seems to be hanging out. PLEASE feel free to come up to me if you see me, even if I’m talking with someone. My business meetings are scheduled outside of these locations, so you don’t have to worry you’ll be interrupting something that needs to be private. And this is what conventions are for!

Everything can get pretty hectic, but if you want to see if I’m around, it’s probably easiest to poke me on Twitter (http://twitter.com/meljean) or Facebook (http://facebook.com/meljeanbrook) and say, “Hey, dork! You around?” and if I am, I’ll answer as soon as I can. The only day I really plan to be away from the hotel is on Thursday. I might be harder to reach that day. But Wednesday afternoon, Friday, and Saturday between events? I’ll be lurking, dorkily.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/find-romantic-times-convention-las-vegas/feed/2Quarterly (NON) update!http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-non-update-update/
http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-non-update-update/#commentsFri, 26 Feb 2016 01:21:27 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10764No news! I’m writing, of course. I’m working on a couple of things, though the one I’m most excited about is the barbarians that I hope to have news about by this summer, one way or another. Probably about the time I finish the facelift for the Milla Vane site, which has been fun to […]

]]>No news! I’m writing, of course. I’m working on a couple of things, though the one I’m most excited about is the barbarians that I hope to have news about by this summer, one way or another. Probably about the time I finish the facelift for the Milla Vane site, which has been fun to design. My first try looked WAY too much like 300 but I’m happier with the direction of the second design (inspiration photo in upper right hand side — that’s an awesome painting by Maciej Kuciara.)

I’m still making covers on the side because it is a nice thing for my brain. New covers include Jockblocked for Jen Frederick and a sci-fi cover for Jessica Clare/Jessica Sims/Jill Myles’s mom, Noelle Sinclair — Worlds Apart. That was pretty fun and the dude is green. And I made a few others that will pop up here and there, but they haven’t had their cover debut yet, so I’ll add them to the cover page at some future point.

And I’m listening to Air Supply lately. Because of course I am.

I loved Deadpool, forgot to go see Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, kind of stopped watching Jane the Virgin (although I love it just as much and think it’s so clever and well-done, I just don’t think I can do the long long long nothing is ever resolved serial storyline that’s building), haven’t seen the last X-Files episode because I’m afraid it’s as terrible as everyone says, plan to binge-watch the last few episodes of Agent Carter all at once, and really can’t wait for Daredevil to return to Netflix.

Elektra!

So TL;DR version: I’m writing. Some of it is coming together (yay!) No Blacksmith yet, though. The rest of the time I spend working on Photoshop and bingeing on cheesy entertainment.

]]>http://meljeanbrook.com/quarterly-non-update-update/feed/82015 Wrap Up: Still alive! Still no updates! And Happy Holidays + Star Wars Day!http://meljeanbrook.com/still-alive-still-no-news/
http://meljeanbrook.com/still-alive-still-no-news/#commentsTue, 15 Dec 2015 22:28:28 +0000http://meljeanbrook.com/?p=10745I was reminded to update the blog to let you all know what’s going on. Sometimes I forget (mostly because I check in on Facebook and Twitter now and then, but forget about the website because it’s not as interactive.) Right now I’m working, trying to avoid all Star Wars spoilers (I have a ticket […]

I was reminded to update the blog to let you all know what’s going on. Sometimes I forget (mostly because I check in on Facebook and Twitter now and then, but forget about the website because it’s not as interactive.) Right now I’m working, trying to avoid all Star Wars spoilers (I have a ticket for Friday morning, yay!)

Anyway. 2015 was an odd year for me. Although I’ve been writing pretty much every day, it was the first year I haven’t had a release as Meljean Brook since I began publishing. I realized the other day (while giving the therapist at my chiropractor’s office a stack of my books) that it’s been ten years exactly since I finished writing DEMON ANGEL. Yay. Anniversaries are fun. I didn’t expect to have a barren year only ten years after finishing my first novel.

But there’s a lot of crap that happened personally (I’m healthy, my daughter and husband are healthy, but unfortunately not everyone we love got through 2015 unscathed, and that has kind of a snowballing effect on writing time) and professionally things kind of sucked (the BLACKSMITH would *not* pull together, and I had to reboot) this year, so, hey — I got through it, and that’s good. I’ve learned lots of things, like How To Prepare a Pump for Someone with a Feeding Tube! Someday I’ll appreciate that and a killer will strangle someone with a feeding tube and my heroine will have to figure out who that killer is.

So, that’s all a very long and whiney way to say: I don’t have any news for you guys on the release front yet.

But I suppose I can do an end of the year wrap up, huh? Those are fun.

FAVORITE MOVIE: MAD MAX: FURY ROAD.

I don’t care how good Star Wars might be. Nothing is going to knock this off the pedestal.

FAVORITE BOOK: The barbarian book I’m working on.

haha, that was mean! No, really. I think for romance it is probably: EVERYTHING I LEFT UNSAID by M. O’Keefe (this is part one of a two-part story, but the second book is just as good, though I loved the first book the more of the two). Just really lovely. For horror, BIRD BOX by Josh Malarian.

I read others that I really loved, but they were my friends’ books, and that’s always weird. And I like Molly O’Keefe and maybe she would be my friend! But I only met her once so that doesn’t count.

Both of those things add up to: Meljean usually makes dinner by running to the store just before she has to make it, where she picks up ingredients for either a) tacos, b) spaghetti, c) gyros, because I can grab all the veggies out of the New Seasons’ salad bar instead of, you know, chopping that shit up by hand, and they have great lamb gyro sausage patties that I can break up in the pan, d) Rice a Roni and boneless, skinless chicken breasts that I toss into the oven and forget about until the point where they will break your teeth when you bite into them, and e) … tacos again.

I also end up spending a ton of extra money because of the aforementioned rush to the store. It doesn’t make sense, because the stuff I’m making is relatively cheap, right? But what happens is that I grab stuff when I’m at the store EVERY DAY, too much stuff, forget to make it, a lot of food goes to waste, and blah blah.

So one day when I was lamenting my terrible cooking skills (I tried to make fish tacos for a change and pretty much made myself throw up when I saw the way the cod looked as I was cooking it), Anne Victory mentioned Hello Fresh. They send pre-portioned ingredients for their meals, which come in a nice variety. I have to chop all of the vegetables and cook the meals, but they only take about 30-45 minutes, and they are pretty easy to prepare and the recipes are easy to follow.

I found out that I really like parsnips. I’d never had them before, but it’s like a carrot mated with a potato and came out with some really great weird vegetable. Who knew?

I also like cooking a lot more, I’ve discovered, when the end result doesn’t taste like ass.

Anyway, I started with the three-times-a-week, two-person version and then upgraded to the four-person subscription, because that allows me to stick leftovers into my husband’s lunch (and sometimes there’s enough for dinner the next day, which means, yay! Less cooking.)

But the best part is that, because I’m not running to the store every day, I’m saving money on groceries overall. One day I might get my act together and get better about making lists and only getting what I need for the week, but until then, this has been really great for me.

(If you want to try it, I think I have a referral code around here somewhere, and you get $40 off a box. I can post that in the comments. OH WAIT! here it is.)